Birds of a Feather
by TrulyWarpedReality
Summary: Katniss finally "snaps" when her family is killed. It happens at a most inoppertune time. Katniss Mellark is president. All of Panem, and the flock watches in horror as Katniss enacts her revenge on the world. Max and Katniss clash. Mostly Canon. Rated for Mild Language.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plotline.

Katniss Everdeen has a psychotic break, as president. The flock get caught in the middle.

Birds of a Feather Fly together... or do they? What about birds of different feathers, say, a Mocking Jay and an Avian Hybrid?

_UPDATE: Max's part was completely rewritten 6/10. I only kept the last few lines. Next, I will post Chapter 4, and after that, Chapter 2 will be redone._

Thanks for Reading.

Katniss

Katniss Mellark grabbed her face with her hands and sighed. It was going to be another long day.

Katniss had her inauguration as president today. It surprised both her and Haymich that she was elected. Apparently, the public had forgiven her, for murder. How depressing.

At least there was a bright side. After the ceremony and speech, Katniss was going to go see her children and husband in district 12. There were having a celebratory dinner together. She rarely saw them during her campaign, and it made her very eager to see them.

During the inauguration, Katniss walked purposefully upon the stage, her shiny dark brown hair bouncing along behind her. Shewais quickly followed by Hamich, only slightly stoned. Katniss reached the microphone and glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper in her palm, her speech. Katniss scowled when she reaches out to take the microphone and realizes her hand is trembling. As a girl, in the Hunger Games she had been fantasizing about killing various people, mostly former President Snow, bless his heart. Now however, when faced with a speech in front of a very large crowd of various people she was scared.  
It was humiliating.

The oddly dressed multicolored crowd started clapping and cheering. Katniss raised her right hand and then dropped it. The crowd slowly quieted. She stood up straight, and cleared her throat, preparing to "blast them away" with a speech when a messenger girl entered the stage.

"Mrs. President! Mrs. President! You must come with me. Something horrible has happened, it's urgent!"

Hamich paled, considerably quite a feat when considering how much he had been drinking. "can thissss isss ss wait?" he said slurring his s.

"Not here." The girl hissed.

She led the pair off stage and brought out a small hand held device that everyone in the capital, child, man or woman seemed to possess. The screen expanded flooding the wall with color. On the screen was a blackened house, flames pouring out of every opening.

Katniss stood, stunned. That building was from district 12. The rebuilt district 12, her wedding gift to Peeta. More importantly, that was her house. That was where she kept her children hid, refugees from the press. That was also where her husband, Peeta was this weekend.

"Peeta.. my children!" "Please tell me, are they safe?"

The girl glanced at her, concern in her eyes.

"This isn't a live feed this picture was sent to me, it was shot an hour ago, just 15 minutes ago local firefighters retrieved the bodies of your family, I'm sorry, there were no survivors"

Katniss howled, her voice reverberating through the quiet room.

Hamich slipped his arm over her shoulder "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. We should go. We need to go to district 12 see, what happened, we can reschedule, I'm sure the public would understand" emotion was heard clearly in his voice even through the booze.

Katniss shook him off.

"No."

"No more pity parties for the 2 lost lovers from district 12." Her hand trembled precariously, an aftereffect of the Hunger Games, PTSD.

"I'm going to do this now."

Katniss walked back on stage, the pre-planned speech spiraling from her hand and floating slowly to the floor before she reached the microphone.

"Hello everyone. I would like to kick off my presidency today with re-instating the Hunger Games.

The room was silent; one could have heard a pin drop.

"Well," she continued,

"I'm not going to bore us all with crap numbers or statistics or facts of it stimulating the economy. I'm doing this because I want to."

Most of the people in the very large room stood up and started cheering their little hearts out. These lovely people of the Capital had clearly been missing the blood-thirsty action.

Katniss just glared at them.

"What are you cheering for? You lot are going to be sending two of your kids too." "See how you like it." She grumbled.

Hamich, at the edge of the stage stood in shock

. "Katniss, what da hell? Ss… sweet heart you can't do this. Is this really what you want?"

Katniss ignored him.

Someone from the crowd, with faint leopard tattoo all over his body yelled out,

"Who will be the game maker?"

Katniss's wide grin nearly split her face in two.

"I pick….Hamich."

Hamich stumbled out on stage grabbing her arm.

"Why would you do thissss… isss… Katnisss?"

Katniss glanced back at Hamich, a serene smile playing at her lips

"Because, if I can't be happy, then no one can."

Max's escapades

Maximum Ride, glanced around, surveying her surroundings. The white background of the walls contrasted sharply with the pristine metal tables and various medical equipment.

There were few outright significant things about this girl, her standard brown eyes and brown hair tended to blend in with the average teenager. However, she did have wings, and startling enough, she was sitting despondently in a dog cage.

Even more startling was that there were other children next to her, in their own dog cages.

Spotting no one, the girl carefully removed the IV from her arm. She delicately put the IV point inside the lock outside her cage, the boy next to her, a blond boy about age 8 was quick to shove his in also. A few minutes later the lock clicked to her cage.

The pair smiled grimly. Max exited the cage, stretching luxuriously, reveling in her newfound freedom. The girl approached Gazzy, the young boy, and dutifully picked his lock.

Soon, all the cages in the sterile room were opened. The figures stood in the center of the room, clearly not knowing what to do next.

A girl, twelve years, African American glanced down at her classic hospital outfit, scowling. Clearly this fashion forward teen was offended by the clothing.

She wasn't the only one whom looked out of place in the clothing. A teenage boy on the left of Max looked like he belonged in black garb to match his steely expression and pale skin.

Max began to speak, directing her words to him.

"Fang, would you block the door?".

The teenager nodded and strode towards the door, limping slightly.

A small blond girl sat on a table, massaging the area in which the IV was inserted.

The children all had a pair of wings. Tattered and dingy, they were not in pristine condition. The muscle part of the wing was wilted, as if it didn't even have enough muscle to support itself. Furthermore, the children were scrawny and gaunt almost to the point of malnourishment.

All six figures jumped, surprised, when a large bang was heard outside the door.

They glanced at each other anxiously. The small blond girl, Angel, held a dog tightly to her chest in fear.

Fang, Max and a strawberry blond boy ran to hold the door shut. In their weakened state it wasn't long before there was an explosion and the three were thrown backwards.

A dozen or so of armed security guards emerged from the door. As if in a trance the children met the group with an unmatched ferocity.

The small girl lept inbetween their legs and popped up from behind, kicking one in the back of their knees. The man in black fell forward and was quickly dispatched by her brother, Gazzy.

Max quickly eliminated several by slamming their heads together. Fang was quick to join her. He sidestepped the sedation dart and continued to intercept the attackers.

Unfortunately, Nudge was not so lucky. The dart hit her right above her collarbone. She swayed and hit the ground.

Max gave a roar of fury.

Nudge lay on the cold floor convulsing, foaming slightly at the mouth. Iggy rushed in front of her to protect her in her weakened state.

Even though he was blind he could still effectively kick butt. The good thing about the school is that it was nearly all white. He could discern a few shapes in the darkness. His depth perception wasn't the best though, so he preferred to rely on his hearing.

With an expert snapping kick he broke the neck of one of the assailants. When he emerged from his adrenaline filled state the battle was over.

Iggy sat over Nudge's unconscious body, a knot in his throat. Fang patted his shoulder,

"She'll be fine. Until then, we'll all enjoy the quiet." Iggy chuckled slightly.

Iggy stooped and picked Nudge up, careful to not apply pressure to her wings.

Max ran out of the room, looking for an exit.

The rest of the flock followed her.

The children ran cautiously through the white halls, looking for an escape route.

They found what they were looking for.

A large room dwarfed the figures. Strange aircraft lined the sides of the room. The sunlight glinted off of the metal of the aircraft.

Gazzy yelped with recognition. He rushed over to push a red button on the wall. The opposite wall of the hanger flickered and then dissolved, in a rapid display of technology.

The avian hybrids and the dog boarded an aircraft in the side of the hanger. Five of the children sat in the cargo area while Gazzy tried to figure out the controls.

Iggy sat on the side of the cargo area. He stroked Nudge's hair. She was still unconscious.

"I would feel a lot more comfortable if Nudge was driving." Everyone nodded in agreement. Nudge was their go-to person with electronics. Gazzy was probably capable, but it certainly wasn't instinctual for him.

Max gasped as the aircraft raised erratically into the air. All six children paled dramatically, which is quite a feat when referring to Fang.

All of the avain hybrids hated flying in aircraft of any kind. All the flying they needed came from their wings. All other kinds caused claustrophobia.

They flew for about four hours before Max was beckoned to come into the cockpit.

"Max. We're running out of gas. We need to get off this ship." Max furrowed her eyes in confusion.

_How?_

Before, they could just fly out with no trouble. But, now it was likely that none of them had the strength to fly.

Gazzy answered her question. He pointed to a cupboard.

"I think there are parachutes in there."

Parachutes, of course. They sound terrifying.

"How much time do we have?" The ship lurched in flight and teetered precariously back and forth.

Gazzy tilited his head pensively.

"Now would be good."

As if in response, the plane gave another lurch.

Max tossed a parachute to Gazzy and he strapped himself in. She ran to toss the others to the rest of the flock, tripping and hitting her kneecap in the process.

_Ow._

The children hurriedly put on their parachutes and tentatively jumped outside.

Max kept her eyes closed until the landing. She didn't trust the man-made apparatus, and her stomach was tumbling with fear.

After landing, the group set out to find food.

Gazzy soon found a rabbit, but it soon grew evident that he was quite attached to it.

"Its name is Benard." Angel furrowed her brow and whined.

"Ma-a-a-ax I'm hungry!" Max covered her hand with her face. She had no solution. There was no middle ground. Neither party would agree to cut off a few limbs of the rabbit and then let it go. Either the Rabbit died and Angel was happy or the Rabbit lived and they stayed hungry.

Angel, angry, made a decision.

"It's either Benard, or Total that I'm going to eat tonight. Take your pick."

Total huffed, a peculiar noise coming from a mutt.

"Some dogs may find that offensive. Especially talking dogs. Eating talking dogs is as bad as cannibalism, 'cause, you know, I can talk."


	2. Chapter 2

**I apologize for the long time in between updates. I have a lot of stuff going on, and will try to update more frequently. Also, I dislike how Max's part of the last chapter ended up. I will most likely revise it at some point. To me, it looks juvenile and confusing. If anyone has constructive criticism I would be very pleased to read it. Thanks for reading.**

**I do not own anything recognizable.**

Katniss lounged about in her spacious bedroom. She lay on the bed, her feet propped up on pillows. This remarkable young woman was looking at pictures of her family.

It was selfish, she knew. There was much to be done and so little time to do it. She had funerals to organize, a meeting with the game makers, setting a date for the Hunger Games, a talk with the media.

Katniss could only do so much, and yet all she could do was sit here, and look at her family all happy and smiling in a photo album. She even had pictures of her sister and father in there. Katniss was much older now than when she watched her sister die. She shouldn't be feeling this. This grief was overwhelming. She should be used to it by now.

The girl Mocking Jay had seen so much anguish in her life. First her father, then the horror of the Hunger

Games two times over with Rue. Then the war, with Finnich and Anne. She didn't even want to remember her sister.

Yes, she had made a mistake of getting close to Finnich. It only led to heartache. She was also ignorant enough to think that she could live "happily ever after" with her family and Peeta. There are no happy endings, ever. She knew that now.

She sat, staring at the vase on her nightstand. In it was a single flower. A rose. Its nauseating perfume filled her room. It was a lasting memory from the Capital.

There was a knock on Katniss's door. Her mother's voice came from behind the door,

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry, can I come in? Please?" her mother's voice came choked up like she was still crying. Whether she was crying due to the Katniss's children's death's or the reinstatement of the Hunger Games was unclear and irrelevant.

Katniss frowned, there were no happy endings. She needed to distance herself from people to avoid pain. Yet, she was all her mother had left.

"No, mom, I don't want company. Leave."

**Max**

Max and her flock (excluding Gazzy) sat down to eat the rabbit Gazzy had caught. Gazzy refused to eat Benard.

Eventually Fang had gotten so hungry he had grabbed the rabbit and stabbed it with a stick, behind the front shoulder blades. It was a perfect kill shot. Gazzy had been "less than pleased". However, Total seemed to be relieved, knowing Angel would keep to her promise.

In the morning the group set out, most of their bellies full from the previous evening. The group engaged in light banter

"Gazzy, your mom's so fat! She brought a spoon to the super bowl!"

"She did not."

"She did."

"Well, your mom's stupid."

"Is not"

"Is too"

"None of you even know your mother, or father for that matter" Angel interrupted.

Everyone just looked at angel.

"Wow, way to ruin the party, Angel." Fang said darkly, as usual.

Angel shrugged nonchalantly,

"someone had to."

"Max, let's go this way!"

The group walked the way Angel directed; none of them had a better idea.

Several days later of traveling through the forest they came upon a town.

The group wandered aimlessly through the town, occasionally rifling through garbage cans searching for food.

Eventually they reached a square, like the center of the town. To the side of the square were two booths labeled with sharpie on a piece of cardboard.

"Girls" and "Boys" Max sashayed up to the girl's booth and opened her mouth as to ask a question when the woman manning the booth barked,

"Name?" Max paused.

"Maximum Ride, but I go by Max." The woman scowled at her,

"Did I ask you what you go by?"

"No, but I thought..."

The woman, ignoring her, said,

"Sign your name on this ticket and drop it in." Max did as she was told.

"Would you like to register extra tickets?" the woman asked in a monotone voice.

"What's the drawing for?" The woman looked at her strangely, her eyes narrowing fiercely. In a sarcastic voice she responded,

"The possibility of fame and fortune. Also, you get extra rations for each ticket you sign."

Max, perplexed, asked,

"How many tickets can I have?"

The woman sighed and responded,

"As many as you want."

Max thought hard. She had to take care of the other kids. She had gotten them in this mess after all. The Hunger Games, whatever they were, sounded fun, maybe they were a "sport" like what she had heard the white-coats talking about. If she won these "games" her and her Avian-Hybrid friends could live out their days in style, in a mansion.

Angel tugged at her arm.

"Max, I'm really hungry."

That settled it.

Max smiled apologetically at the woman.

"Would it seem selfish to take them all?"

The woman looked shocked,

"I'm sure everyone else wouldn't mind."

Katniss

Katniss stood, anxiously in front of her armoire.

Her black hair was pulled back in a clip, and her figure was adorned with one of the last of the dresses from the binder. It was soft, silk fabric. The color was black, with reflective red tinges, that resembled crimson blood when it shimmered. Who knew that her favorite designer, Cinna was so morbid? So, delightfully morbid. What right did Effie Trinket have by not showing her this sooner?

Katniss made a face at the figure in the mirror. Her pale, gaunt face was pressed into a very unbecoming expression. Plastic surgeons had restored the scarred tissue in her face. She looked completely average, and yet she knew she never would be. Thirty years from now, it would appear as though she had never aged. She would be the only one who looked 25 with grey hair.

Katniss glanced at her watch systematically. Her schedule decreed her to make the opening to the Hunger Games in precisely 15 minutes. In some ways, she was looking forward to it, in others not so much.

Now, that Katniss had declared herself head of her political advisory committee, she made final decisions. It was added pressure, but she was pleased with the arrangement. She still listened to her advisors, but only did what they thought was absolutely necessary.

Her advisors had told her that they deemed it necessary to make public appearances regarding the Hunger Games. Most districts didn't have a surviving victor to train the tributes, but district twelve, on the other hand, had two. It would look extremely good for her image if she was able to train the victor of the Hunger Games. It was just an added bonus that she didn't have much in the way of real competition. The war had done that for her. There were so few surviving victors.

Katniss paused in her thoughts. Her children were dead. She was in need of a successor. These Hunger Games could be a good opportunity. She wanted her successor to be from District 12, and she wanted them to win the Hunger Games. Yes, the media would like that. This year would be a great opportunity. She could mentor a young mind.

The media would prefer if the person was female, most likely. That's not to say that a male has no chance, it's just she would consider it.

A knock came from the door of her room.

"Ms. President, they're ready for you."

Katniss sat, perched on the plush chair. The bright lights shone upon her face, white washing it. With every smile she forced she could feel the layers of make-up that had been plastered upon her already flawless face.

For the opening ceremony, prior to the drawings, Katniss was receiving an interview, on stage. With Caeser Flickerman, of course. This year, the celebrity's make up and hair was done in a grotesque color, Katniss thought to herself. It resembled vomit green.

Caeser Flickerman entered the stage from Katniss's right. He bowed towards the audience and threw several kisses in exaggerated motions with dexterity beyond his years.

He rushed forward exuberantly,

"Katniss! What a pleasure to meet your acquaintance once again!" Ever the charmer. Katniss fought to keep the disgusted expression off her face. She smiled politely.

"Mr. Flickerman, thank you for having me." He beamed.

"Please, call me Caeser." Katniss nodded, and restrained the urge to roll her eyes. Why must she have to make these dreaded appearances? They were dreadful.

Flickerman plopped down in his chair and leaned forward to Katniss.

"So… Katniss, we all heard about your family, what a terrible thing to happen. I'm so sorry." He patted her knee sympathetically.

Katniss's throat slowly closed, her lips trembled. Her head went downcast, towards the shiny floor.

Caeser continued,

"…especially under the circumstances." Katniss raised her brown eyes to meet Caeser's green contacts.

"What circumstances?" Caeser made a big show of clapping his hand over his mouth.

"You don't know?" He turned in the direction of the audience.

"She doesn't know!" Katniss growled a warning.

"Caeser!" Katniss reproachfully snapped.

The media always seemed to know things before she did, even as president. It was so annoying. This whole thing was a mistake. Caeser probably bribed someone for that information, with a plan to reveal it gradually, this interview to increase ratings.

"What. Is. It." Katniss hissed between her teeth, leaning towards Caeser, a look of unadulterated fury upon her face.

Caeser appeared to retract a few millimeters. He wasn't used to intimidation tactics. Unfortunately he still managed to cheerfully announce,

"Why, arson of course! Roll the tape!"

Katniss's plush lips pressed together in a thin line. This was uncalled for. Why hadn't her spies informed her? Is this a conspiracy from her publicity committee? They are so fired. Unless, of course, she felt the urge to kill the lot of them herself. In which case, she is in need of her cover-up committee.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as a black screen materialized behind her. It was very large, perhaps twenty feet by thirty.

Images appeared on the screen. It was her house. By the angle, Katniss estimated the camera to be about 15 feet in the air, most likely hidden in a nearby tree.

The picture was still, except for faint movement behind the windows, and the rustling of branches.

From the bottom of the screen, Katniss noticed a faint smudge of color. Pink color. The color moved across the screen, settling at the side of the house. It must be either a hat or hair, Katniss decided. The frames were sped up until flames engulfed the house.

Katniss's face grew red hot. How dare someone kill her family? What right did they have? Who did it? It must've been someone from the capitol, no one from district 12 wore pink. All their clothing was brown, grey and dingy. Not cotton candy pink. No one from any other districts possessed any means to travel to her district. Was it a political action?

Is it even true?

Her thoughts swam in circles. Flickerman viewed her with concern.

"Katniss, are you alright?" Ms. President took a deep breath.

"…Just dandy." Katniss looked down at her lap. She was filled with confusion. Her right hand danced, begging to throw a weapon at somebody. It might've even twitched, ready to release the string and kill her prey.

Flickerman sighed, noticing that he was losing her.

"Alright, moving on. Why did you decide to re-instate the Hunger Games?"

Katniss paused, at a loss for words. She needed to convince people that she wasn't insane.

"Well, you see, Caeser… the Hunger Games are a part of Panem. They are our heritage and what separates us from the rest of the world. We need a little individualism."

Caeser smiled. "That they are. Now, I want to hear about your decision of whom to appoint as game maker. Why Haymitch?"

Katniss frowned. This, she would have to put delicately. For, if people knew the truth… Haymitch had no friends. No one he is attached to. Punishing him for her misery would be extremely difficult if she had not developed the amazing idea she had. Making Haymitch participate, no, orchestrate the bane of his existence was a stroke of genius.

Eventually, Katniss got an idea.

"Hammich is the eldest victor. It is only fair that we show him the proper respect. As a tribute, he must pay more attention to the previous games than anyone. Even through his drunken stupor. Besides, if he were to mentor a tribute, it would give them an unfair advantage."

Caeser chuckled at the mention of Haymitch's addiction. People in the capital found it amusing to give him high quality booze, and watch the results. It had become a game, much like the game "crazy cat".

A beeping was heard from Caeser's wrist.

"Oh! It's half-time show already! My! How time flies." Caeser stood up, shook Katniss's hand and exited the stage. Katniss followed, seething.

The audience watched, captivated as dozens upon dozens of mimes entered the stage. Nearly all of them were very talented, and their hands moved around them in a motion, like there was a box around their bodies.

Some of the younger members of the audience wouldn't have doubted that there was in face an invisible box around their bodies.

No one from the audience was surprised when the mimes opened their mouth to form imaginary screams, and they had no tongue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever, Maximum Ride. Believe me, she is beyond my control.**

**Many thanks go out to the Da Amazing Po-Po-Pony for pointing out some grammatical and formatting errors in this chapter. ^^**

Max anxiously filled out the small cards with her name. She knew that she should leave some for other people, but they were so hungry, so afraid and so alone for so long.

Besides, it's not as if everyone else deserved some. Look what they had done to the flock. Their parents sold them as babies to the white coats. The citizens were nothing but bystanders, and yet Max's stomach filled with fury at the very thought of them.

Those people thought their life sucked. At least they didn't live in a dog cage. They were ignorant and ungrateful.

All she wanted in her life was peace… just peace. Everyone else, worrying about food specifically, was just superficial. One day, they might understand, but probably not.

Their current, privileged life is almost beyond her comprehension.

The government isn't after their blood. They are nameless, a face amidst a sea of faces.

Maximum Ride carefully signed her name on the last card. Her hands were cramping terribly, but she refrained from massaging them. To show weakness, is to invite pain. She glanced over to the woman, manning the booth. The woman's eyes were flooded in unshed tears.

Startled, Max stared at her with a morbid fascination. She had never seen an adult cry without being "physically compelled".

Were her eyes broken? Had someone snuck over and stabbed her without Max noticing?

The woman reached out and laid her hands on top of Max's, whose were resting on the table. The woman squeezed Max's hands, seemingly trying to comfort her.

"Pumpkin, these are tough times we live in. Don't give up quite yet. You have so much to live for. But, you shouldn't worry. They'll be provided for." The woman gestured towards the flock, who were busy playing tag nearby.

Max frowned. The woman appeared to be confused. What did she really have to live for? The hunt? To be hunted by the government? No. She would welcome death if not for her dependents.

"I doubt it." A tear fell from the eye of the woman. She gave one more squeeze before retracting her hands.

"I wish you luck tomorrow, at the drawing, darling." She sniffed delicately.

Max nodded.

"Thank you." Max didn't know why the woman seemed to think luck was necessary. With all the tickets she filled out, she surely stood a chance at scoring some peace, as well as some food.

The flock left the square, the sky had grown rather dark, and they wanted to make camp. Near the outskirts of the town, there were many trees to perch in.

The trees were beautiful, with evergreen leaves upon their branches. Each member of the flock found a large branch to sleep on. Max and Fang shared a tree, as did Nudge and Angel. Gazzy, Total and Iggy slept on a fir nearby.

Max sat up on the branch, she leaned over the side and spotted Fang a branch below her. He wasn't sleeping, he was laying on his back, his arms crossed under his head, and his legs crossed at a comfortable angle.

"Fang," She asked. He met her eyes with his black depths.

"What's going to happen tomorrow? What's the game? What if the government is there?" He frowned, closing his dark brown eyes.

"I don't know, Max. We have to go though, we have no other choice. I'm more worried about the actual game. What if it's dangerous? I can't let you do it."

She briefly smiled.

"I'll be alright. I can still whup your butt any day." Fang smirked, but Max could see the faint worry etched into his face.

"Or so, you say." Max smiled,

"Thanks, Fang."

"Anytime."

Max slowly drifted off to sleep, but Fang lay awake far into the morning.

Come daylight, Max woke up quickly. She had heard a noise. She leaned over and brutally smacked Fang's rib cage with her superhuman strength.

Fang groaned, coming to a realization he sprang up to attention.

"Ow, Max. Domestic abuse is not the answer." He hissed at her, irritated.

She pressed her finger to her lips, an expression of silence.

He quieted immediately.

Glancing around, they both saw the cause of the noise.

A young man was being led out of his house, rather forcefully. He was escorted by two buff peace-keepers. She could distantly hear the voices,

"Trying to avoid the Games, are you?" one peace-keeper asked, sneering.

"It's unethical! I don't want to participate." The government agent didn't reply.

Max deftly leapt from branch to branch, leaving the tree. She had to be on time.

They could disqualify her.

She glided over to the trees, shaking each one separately.

"We're late, let's go." Max felt a little remorse, when Iggy fell out of the tree in shock.

She grabbed his hand and helped him up.

"We have to go. We're already late for the drawing."

Iggy frowned.

"Alright. Alright. But, why do you always have to pick on the blind kid?"

The other children woke up easily and they jogged towards the square silently, hiding behind dumpsters and houses to remain unseen.

The dewy morning air chilled Max's spine and she shivered. Iggy's cheeks, nose and ears (as he was pale) turned a rosy peach color that contrasted with his white skin.

The six children and dog jogged towards the square.

The sight that greeted them when they arrived horrified Fang.

Fang frowned. He suspected as much. Why didn't stop Max from signing those tickets?

The whole town was standing in front of a stage. Many were crying, others clutched their neighbors tightly, in terror.

Max frowned, reaching a realization that this may have not been the best idea. She extended her arms in front of the flock, halting their motion.

"Retreat." She hissed.

Angel and Gazzy shuffled backwards, fear clearly visible on their faces. As if in slow motion, Max saw the eyes of a woman, on stage move upwards, focusing on them.

"This is not good." Max whimpered fearfully.

The woman smiled, exposing her bleached teeth like a while approaching on a small school of fish.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have somewhere to be?" The woman purred,

"Of course not. Guards, go retrieve them."

Some peace-keepers (rather an ironic name) approached them quickly. The children fell back in a defensive fighting position, one of their arms blocking their jaw from an attack. It was the stance that Jeb had taught them, before they were captured again.

The Peace-keepers were quickly within arms reach.

Max stroke first. Her hand connected with the Peace-Keepers helmet. It resounded with a large bang.

Max's face contorted in pain. Her hand was clearly broken. The armor was too much. All hope was lost.

She snapped out her leg in a kick, designated to render the receiver's reproductive system useless.

Max's leg made contact with the armor.

She howled in agony.

The peace-keeper grabbed her and held her shoulders, seemingly pushing her into the ground. She groaned with the stress it was putting on her spine.

All the children were captured.

Max's face burned. It was so embarrassing. She should've been able to beat them, after all they aren't genetically enhanced. But, no. They had beaten her, just with armor. What a disgrace she made to the mutant community.

The flock's faces were downtrodden as they were led to the citizens of District 12. They were placed in the back, probably due to the fact they were very tall.

The woman coughed delicately, adjusting her powder green wig.

"Now, we can begin."

"The Hunger Games… eternal glory. Blah, blah blah. We all know the stories,

"We all know the speeches, we've been listening to it since we could barely utter noises." The woman paused, screening the crowd.

"Whatever. As always, ladies get the _honor_ of going first. Bring me the fishbowl!" The crowd slightly tittered in amusement, through their somber expressions. District 12 had gotten a new "Hunger Games representative". She was a character, and everyone could appreciate that. Effie Trinket wasn't missed.

The lady pressed her finger to her forehead in a dramatic expression, as if she was reading the future. Then, she flung her hand to the left to go in the fishbowl. Snickers were heard from the crowd. She was nearly a foot off.

The assistant sighed, and picked up the woman's hand to place in the bowl.

The woman dramatically ruffled around in the bowl before selecting a piece of paper. She opened it, and squinted.

"Who is Naxium Pride? Naximum Pride? What kind of name is that?" Max groaned and blushed slightly.

Her hand had started cramping when she was writing. What was she supposed to do if her writing was unreadable?

Some members of the crowd sighed in relief. It was no one they were close to. In fact, they didn't even know her.

Someone from the crowd yelled out,

"Who the heck is Naximum Pride?"Fang winced in realization, the guard turned at the sudden movement. They appeared puzzled, before the recognition appeared in their dim, cloudy eyes.

One grabbed Max's arm and thrust her forward.

"Here she is." He growled.

Max appeared to fold into herself as her heart beat rapidly in her chest cavity. Self consciously, she wiped the sweat off of her upper lip and forehead. Her genetic mutations couldn't help her now. She was going to have to participate in the games.

Maximum Ride walked on the stage, her knees nearly knocking together. She knew that she was on camera. If anyone from the school recognized her, this was it. They would be here within the hour. Crud.

The woman dragged her to the center of the stage.

"Would anyone like to volunteer to take the place of this young girl as tribute?"

There was silence, albeit a few chuckles. Katniss Everdeen and her husband were the only people to ever volunteer for the Hunger Games in the history of District 12. It was a well-documented fact that they were both missing a few marbles. There was no way that anyone would volunteer.

Fang slowly raised his hand.

The whole crowd broke up in laughter.

Fang's face burned crimson. What was so funny?

He held himself together and took a step forward, raising his voice beyond the normal decibel.

"I volunteer as tribute." A peace-keeper grabbed his arm and dragged him back.

"What are you playing at?"

Fang's face must've only held confusion because the guard leaned down, explaining further in a rather demeaning tone.

"You have to be a female between the ages of 12 to 18. You can't take her place. You can however, take the place of the male tribute."

Fang blushed. He understood now. If anyone wanted to take Max's place, it would have to be Nudge. He didn't want that.

Then he paused, what if he went with Max? He could protect her and they could escape together. It would be quite the opportunity. He had been looking to hook her for quite a while now. She was quite the catch.

He looked up at the stage, watching Max. She looked so strong up there, but he knew that she was shaking in her shoes. He would be, if he was her.

Max's face contorted with anger, and she shook her head vehemently in a side to side motion.

A voice popped into Fang's head, Angel's voice.

"_Fang. Max doesn't want you to volunteer. In her own words, she would tie you to a chair, dig out your spleen with a spork, and feed it to Total_."

Fang mentally smirked. Max sure had a way with words. Now that he thought about it, it would be irresponsible for him to abandon the rest of the flock. They had to live on, without Max, for a little while.

The Games sounded terrible. Who knew what horrors Max would come back with. She could have mental scarring. She could be a gimp.

He had to be ready for her when she came back.

What were the Hunger Games anyway?

Fang leaned towards Angel,

"Angel. Can you read their minds? What are the Hunger Games?"

There was a pause, and then a voice in his head. The voice sounded so peaceful compared to the words they were saying. It must've been the side-effect of telepathy.

"_The Hunger games are a fight to the death, with 28 participants. One girl and one boy from each district."_

Fang choked.

"What!?" The guards glanced at him with confusion.

Chances were, Max wasn't coming back. Who were the bunch of sadists who came up with this? Who is letting this happen?

He paused as the woman on stage raised her hand. The crowd quieted.

"Now, for the boys." She dug around in the fishbowl.

"Armon Flinginggr."

The boy, with a black curly mop stepped forward. Just another face in the crowd.

He climbed the steps with confidence, but Fang could see his falter. As if to further fake confidence he audaciously winked at Max. As if the Games were so insignificant that he could take time out of his day to court a teenage girl.

He was already playing the sponsors.

Fang's blood boiled. Who did he think he was? At least Max was oblivious to his advances.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to my fabulous readers, and of course, the wonderful reviewers._

_I don't own anything._

**Chapter 4**

The Hunger Games Representative smiled,

"And so concludes the 76th annual Hunger Games! Friends and relatives of tributes feel free to say your final goodbyes before they begin their exciting journey to the capital."

Fang placed his face into his hands. This was it. His last moment with Max. He sniffed, his nose starting to run. Iggy turned at the sound, but didn't say anything.

Resolving his face into a neutral expression, Fang began to herd the flock towards the building which held the tributes.

"We can each have our own time with Max." Fang said. Gazzy glanced at his watch.

"Not if we want to make the time deadline." He interjected, Fang sighed.

"Fine. Gazzy, Iggy and I will go together. Angel and Nudge can go together, with Total of course."

Iggy frowned.

"You owe her some alone time with yourself. You two almost became an item a couple of times." Fang swallowed, hard.

"You guys wouldn't mind?" Nudge rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"Just keep it G-rated, Ok? Besides, she's only going to be gone for what? A few days?" Fang bit his lip, glancing over at Angel.

Angel hadn't told the rest of the flock.

She stared right back at Fang, a stern expression on her face as if to dare him to challenge her decision.

Fang trusted her, sort of. The flock deserved to know, but he couldn't bring himself to tell them. Man, were they going to be furious when they found out.

Gazzy and Iggy entered the building first. Fang sat outside with Nudge and Angel, anxiously clenching his hands.

Nudge was talking loudly, but everyone was ignoring her.

"So, you know, after we get the reward I want to find a mansion, like giant house. We can shelter the homeless. Oh! And, I want to dye my wings pink. They're black… like me… so I'd have to bleach them first but I could totally do that! Then, I could cover them in glitter… Do you remember when we attended school at that Academy?... Well, Lisa said that she thought I would look great in pink, so I know it would work. The glitter is for me. She knows her stuff, too. She always looked so color coordinated! Doug noticed too! Too bad she didn't like him…" Fang ran out of patience.

"Please, please just be quiet." Nudge scowled, but complied with his request.

"Who put the bees in your bonnet?" Fang scowled, but said nothing… as usual.

He watched, sorrowfully as Angel and Nudge took their turn. Finally it was his.

Fang took a deep breath and entered the room. Max lay lengthwise on a plush chair. She jumped up when she saw Fang and called out to him. Fang met her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Fang rested his chin on her head, as he was quite tall. They stayed like that for a bit longer than necessary.

"What's with you?-" She murmured.

"You're being quite affectionate." Max smirked,

"Not that I'm complaining." Fang didn't say anything for a while before speaking.

"I'll miss you." Fang said softly. Max frowned.

"It's only for a couple of days…" Fang swallowed hard. There was a thick pause between them as Fang struggled to work up the nerve to tell her about what Angel had told him. He couldn't do it.

**Katniss's Point of view**

Katniss dipped the rag into the basin. She wanted to wipe all of this accursed plaster off of her. With relief when it was completed, Katniss took down her hair and carefully plaited it into a braid.

Katniss Everdeen was on her way to district 12, to train the tributes. The metro type train was taking her to pick up her tributes. She was ready.

Katniss threw on some cargo pants, a tight black long sleeved tee-shirt and her father's hunting jacket. The media would have a ball. The media ate everything up that connected to her personal life. They were all a bunch of ruthless mongrels, hungry to invade her life. There was little difference between the media and those wolves that attacked her and Peeta in the Arena during their first Hunger Games. At least, as Katniss viewed it. She might actually prefer the wolves, even with Rue's eyes.

She had paid to upgrade the train, so they had enough room to train on the way. It was a good investment, to be sure. She had too much money to begin with.

Exiting the train, Katniss shielded her delicate eyes from the harsh sun. She squinted. There, in the distance, were five, perhaps six figures approaching.

Three or so of those were big, bulky like peace-keepers suits. It would also explain the faint shine that reflected off of their suits.

She walked to meet the group. Katniss could see that there were six figures, the new representative, a nondescript boy with black hair, and a girl.

Katniss immediately zeroed in on the girl. The girl had slightly longer than shoulder length, thin dark brown hair. Her eyes were deep brown and she was tall for her age, brushing 5ft 9. She was slim, but muscular.

Katniss smiled. If there were no glaring deficiencies with her personality, she would do just fine. Beyond fine, even better than expected.

Reaching the group she glared at the peace-keepers, and then extended her hand toward the tributes.

The boy shook first. Katniss forced a smile upon her stiff face. She had to pretend to be friendly, at least for now.

"Hello, I'm Katniss." The boy paled.

"Ms. President, they call me Armon." Katniss extended her hand to Max.

Max regarded it suspiciously. Carefully, she placed her firm hand in Katniss's.

Then, she quickly shook and retracted it.

"My name is Maximum Ride, I go by Max." Katniss politely smiled,

"I don't recall there being a family by the name of Ride in district 12."

Max froze, glaring at Katniss.

_Why didn't she use a psuedonym when she entered the Hunger Games? What could she tell Katniss? Oh sure. We're new. No, that wouldn't work when travel was outlawed._ She settled for the truth.

"There isn't."

Armon and Katniss looked at her curiously, but decided not to pursue the issue.

Katniss waved the peace-keepers away. She led the two children and the representative, Esmeralda Huffington to the car. Once inside, she slammed the door.

Staring intently at the children, Katniss waved the representative away.

Leaning forward, Katniss prepared to give them a speech that they would remember for the rest of their life.

"My name is Katniss. I am president of Panem. I am also your mentor for the Hunger Games. I suggest you listen very closely. After all,"

she smiled faintly,

"Your life depends on it."

Max's eyes expanded to the size of quarters.

"WHAT? Why? Since when?"Armon and Katniss turned towards Max, identical looks of disbelief on their face. However, only Katniss's held dismay.

Katniss needed a successor. Max, would make an excellent one. Where had she been living her whole life? She certainly didn't grow up in district 12. She also grew up with no knowledge of the Hunger Games. Furthermore, she had very strange mannerisms. Max appeared to shy away from personal contact, and was abnormally wary of other people.

Katniss sighed. If Max stood any chance of winning, now she needed to make her move. She needed to train Max heavily. Starting now. Reaching a conclusion, Max turned to Armon.

"Armon, go explore the train. I'll explain things to Max. She has a lot to catch up on."

Armon appeared very disgruntled, but complied with her request.

The Mockingjay grabbed Max harshly, by the wrist and dragged her out of the train car, towards the training arena.

Max froze, startled and retracted her hand. Regardless, she obediently followed Katniss.

Thoughts raced through Max's head.

_Her life depended on it? What kind of statement was that? She needed more details! What would the odds be? Twenty-five against one? Would she be put in a pit with Flyboys attacking from above? Would she be able to recover her flight? Had Fang known? Well, he was acting funny earlier. She was going to kick his attractive ass into the next century._

Katniss was in a very bad mood. Her successor was an imbecile. If Katniss expected Max to survive the Hunger Games, then serious work needed to be done.

They entered the transporting training arena. Max's eyes roamed upwards, gliding over the magnificent opportunities the dome provided. Katniss smirked. She felt the same way. You could do anything in this dome. It was a wonderful investment.

Katniss strode over to the side of the dome. Hanging up, on the wall were several weapons. There were swords, bows, knives, chains, sling-shots and even poison darts and spears.

Max looked towards the weapons with interest.

Katniss frowned. Where to start? The basics? Alright. Her favorite weapon. Katniss walked forward and grabbed a bow from the wall. It was a beautiful recurve bow. The limbs and riser were polished wood.

She gave it to Max, along with a quiver full of arrows.

Max grimaced. She didn't use most of those weapons on the shelf. Sure, the bow she had heard of, and the knives and swords were pretty self-explanatory.

A firearm would be much more effective.

She decided to inform Katniss of this.

Katniss growled in exasperation.

"No one would dare put a firearm in the arena. It's too clean."

Katniss grimaced. It's always best to see what they know. This was always her least favorite part.

"Alright Max." pushing a button on the side of the dome, Katniss continued to talk.

"In the arena, your life will depend on your ability to handle these weapons. I want to see where you are. Give it your all. Use the bow to incapacitate the target."

From the bottom of the floor, a dummy rose on a platform. It stopped at floor level. It was maybe six foot tall.

Max froze, staring at it.

"Go!" Katniss hissed.

Max sprang forward, wielding the bow like a baseball bat.

A crack resounded in the expansive dome.

The president growled out a warning but it was too late. The dummy was incapacitated. Unfortunately, so was the bow.

Katniss covered her eyes in horror. Could Max really be that stupid?

The smart thing to do would be to start over, with a new tribute. But, Max had so much potential. It was a tough choice.

She would have to train Max. There was no other choice.

After she had recovered from the shock, Katniss cleared her throat.

"Lesson one. Bows are not to be used as a crude bludgeoning object." Max turned and stared at her incredulously.

"So, what? You hook someone's head on the string and yank? Hoping for decapitation?" Max rolled her eyes. That didn't sound like an effective weapon. It sounded like a children's toy.

"I gave you those arrows for a reason. They hook on the string. The string is pulled back and released. You shoot the arrow. The arrow pierces your target's skull. Any questions?"

"I still think firearms are more effective." Katniss ground her teeth in frustration.

Max was incorrigible.

"Alright. Before you shoot an arrow, get into your stance. Stand with your feet about shoulder width apart. Relax your shoulders and hold the bow with your left hand." Max frowned.

"I'm left handed, is that for lefties?" Katniss shook her head, unsurprised at Max's hand dominance.

"No, but it doesn't matter. No one in their right mind would put a left handed bow in the arena, which only a few people could use. Besides, it's supposed to be bad luck, or at least that is what superstitious people believe. Lefties, historically used to be considered evil."

Katniss handed Max another bow. This one was silver with black accents. It was still a recurve, but more futuristic.

Max clutched the bow with her left hand. The string side faced outwards. Katniss sighed.

"It's backwards." Max jolted, and turned, surprised to her mentor.

"Like this?" She asked as she drew back the string to her ear.

Katniss raised her hand.

"No, stop. Do not fire that bow!"

Max, confused, let go of the string.

An ear aching crack filled the room. The top limb of the bow split, all the way up to the top. Several small pieces of wood flew off the bow. One ingrained itself into Max's left cheek. It started to bleed heavily.

Startled by the sudden noise, Max dropped the remains of the bow.

Katniss covered her eyes and sighed. Max could not follow directions to save her life.

"Lesson number two. Do not dry fire the bow. As you hopefully already figured out, dry firing bows can cause them to break apart."

Katniss groaned. Max's pathetic inability to do anything right reminded her of her sister. At least, before the war, when she was still innocent and needed someone to take care of her. And yet, Katniss doubted that Max ever was innocent.

No. There was no room for incapable and incompetent people in the Hunger Games.

"Your lack of intelligence is astounding."

Max glared at her. Her soft, thin hair appeared to stand on end.

Katniss surveyed it. Even Max's posture looked threatening. Some would say her hair resembled ruffled feathers.

She truly was perfect. Or, at least physically for Katniss's purpose.

Though, the glaring mental deficiencies needed to be addressed. Sooner, rather than later.

The mentor sighed. If she was to get anything done, she needed help, discreet help. Max wouldn't trust just anyone. Max needed a serious assistant mentor. Alone, Katniss would do nothing of value. Max would die, and Katniss would still need a successor.

Katniss would do anything. Bribe, blackmail or threaten anyone to make this work. This, she couldn't do alone. She needed someone that wasn't involved in the capitol. They must be able to go unseen. What if they used to know Max? Maybe Max knows someone? She certainly had a shadowy enough past.

"Max, who's the most ruthless, strategic person you know, who knows you the best? Your survival depends on it. I need to bring them here to help you." Max paused, a smile playing at her lips, but then quickly shut off her emotions, as if afraid to tell.

Katniss frowned.

"Whoever it is, they'll be safe. No one will know. We'll be discreet. After the Games, no matter what the result, they'll be put, unharmed, back wherever they came from."

Max frowned, she appeared to be considering it. Katniss smiled slightly. She had this in the bag, just one more push. But, what to say...

"I'm sure accommodations can be made and no one will even know they're here. Isn't there a particular someone you're missing from home? Maybe someone you want to spend more time with before you die?"

The teenager's bottom lip trembled slightly, and she half whispered, half whimpered a name.

"Fang." Katniss crisply nodded.

"Good, now louder. I need a name, location, description and I'll be right on it."

Max paused.

"Can you... Is it possible...I need to know if..."

Katniss sighed, exasperated.

"What?" Max bit her lip in indecision.

"Fang takes care of his siblings. Can you find someone to take care of them temporarily?" Katniss nodded brusquely. It was not an unreasonable request.

"Who is this Fang character?" Max appeared to fold in on herself.

"A good friend." Katniss scrutinized her heavily.

"You like him." She stated. Max blushed as a response, much to her embarrassment. Katniss growled.

"You better not let him get between you and the game. I'll have him and the children brought to us in the capitol."

Max grimaced at that. Surely there was someone from the school there, but... she half-way trusted Katniss, and Katniss said that she would be discreet...

Katniss internally was singing. She had found yet another burden to lay upon Haymich's shoulders.

His girlfriend was killed by the capital. Katniss wondered whether he ever thought about the children he could've had. Well, this would rub salt in the wound. No, it would rub salt in multiple wounds. Maybe some of the children would remind him of a child he had mentored, and then watched die.

It was all that he deserved.

"Do these children need any sort of special... accommodations?" Katniss asked.

Max furrowed her brow, in thought.

"The children, there are four, and a dog. The boys will need constant supervision, unless you want to explode your precious city. The oldest girl needs a playmate with extreme patience, for she talks a lot." Katniss almost jumped with glee. Excellent. The boys appeared average, but the girl... Haymich Abernathy was not known for his patience.

"Alright Max, I'll get right on that. Can I get an accurate description of Fang? Or where he lives?"

Max smothered a smile.

"He lives in a tree. He's tall, like me, dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. He won't be found unless he wants to be found, he might try to kill you on sight."

Katniss glared at her.

"Seriously. Where can I find him?"

Max paused, a pensive expression on her face.

"I suppose if you go to the center of the town and request loudly, for Fang to come meet you, and that he won't be harmed, and if you are unarmed and there is no one with you, there is a significant chance he might come with you without hurting you. However, I make no promises on idle threats. Here, I'll write a note to try to convince him."

Max dug out a piece of paper from her pocket and was handed a writing utensil by Katniss. She carefully wrote her request to Fang, and folded the paper. Then, reaching into her pocket she drew out two feathers. One of them was light brown, and another black. Each of the feathers plumage didn't exceed two or three inches.

She glanced at them longingly.

"If these don't work, I don't know what will."

Katniss simply nodded and accepted the rather strange offering. The type of feathers were unrecognizable. Katniss hadn't ever killed any of those birds, they must be foreign. She would think over the significance later.

_Thanks for Reading_


End file.
